


get me with those green eyes

by itsziallbaby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, so fluffy i'm going to die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsziallbaby/pseuds/itsziallbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mutual. We've discussed it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	get me with those green eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i'm listening to too much taylor swift and it's turning me soft. 
> 
> dedicated to my bestest friend rose, fellow swiftie and larry shipper. ily <3

“louis. louis. lou. lewis. louis look at me.” 

louis tears his eyes away from the rerun of doctor who on the telly to see harry next to him, nose plugged with mini marshmallows. the gross green kind that was supposed to taste like fruit. louis thinks they tasted like chalk, but maybe that’s being nice. 

he rolls his eyes, well aware of the fluttery rhythm his heart began every time he so much as looked in harry’s direction. “you’re dumb hazza.” 

harry just grins, lips cherry red except for the powdery dust left over from the marshmallows and breathes out of his nose hard, shooting the two homemade nostril plugs onto louis’s knee. 

“harry styles!” louis screams (manly of course, no matter what the other boys said louis tomlinson did not shriek). “you’re going to pay for that!” 

harry tries to get away, tries to stand up from the sagging couch and sprint off to safety in the kitchen where the boys and the other contestants were, but louis was too quick and manages to grab the younger boy by the waist before he gets the chance to flee. 

louis digs his fingers into harry’s soft sides, causing him to shriek (harry shrieked, and wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it) and thrash around. “lou, louis please stop,” he gasps between fits of laughter.

“hmmm,” louis hummed pretending to think about it and maybe just watching the way harry’s curls bounced up and down. “i don’t think so harold. this is your punishment for shooting your boogers at me.”

“i’m sorry!” he cries, “they were just marshmallows!” 

louis pulls away one hand to flick harry on the nose, “they were covered in your snot you twat!” louis isn’t mad about the marshmallows, but it was an excuse to touch harry, and louis couldn’t pass that up even if he wanted to. 

louis has been looking for ways to touch harry ever since they’ve been put together as a group, him and harry and liam and zayn and niall. during their stay at harry’s dad’s bungalow louis bounced off the walls, stopping only to hang on harry’s back like some sort of overgrown koala bear. there were before show high fives and after show hugs of congratulations and once or twice louis might have feigned insomnia just so he could have an excuse to wander over to harry’s bunk, asking for a cuddle. 

“louis please, i’ll do anything, just stop!” there are tears forming in the corner of harry’s big green eyes and louis grins wickedly. 

“anything?” he asks, his tone sugary sweet. he stops tickling harry for a moment and watches him compose himself. harry’s chest is heaving and his hair is in his face and louis focuses very hard on not brushing it out of his eyes. 

“anything.” harry says back solemnly and louis feels too old for the butterflies that erupted in his stomach. this isn’t a primary school crush, louis is eighteen and a far thing from a blushing virgin. 

okay so maybe not that far and maybe he’s only kissed one boy in his life (drunk at a party, the boy was in louis’s maths class and transferred out the day after, louis still pretends it didn’t bother him), but he’s eighteen years old now and it’s harry. just harry. 

“hmmmm.....okay. you have to be my personal slave for the next twenty four hours starting...” louis looks at his bare skin as though a watch is there, harry bursts into laughter, “now!” 

harry sits up straighter after louis says “now” as though eager to prove he’s up to the challenge and is willing to take on whatever louis is going to force him to do. louis grins fondly. 

“scoot down,” he demands, watching as harry obeys immediately, sliding over to the far end of the couch. 

louis lays down, head resting on harry’s thigh. they finish the episode like this and somewhere along the line, harry began running his fingers through louis’s hair. it feels good and louis remembers his mum doing this when he was little, and her teasing him about acting like cat and purring. 

“whaddya want to do now?” harry asks. 

louis turns his head so he’s looking up, straight up at harry. “i want to win,” louis says, big green eyes staring down at him. 

“me too,” harry sighs, leaning back into the couch. “i want to win more than anything.” 

louis can count the remaining contestants on one hand (excluding his boys, of course) and they’re so, so close. so close to everything liam has prepared all his life for, to what zayn only admitted to himself, to what niall had dreamed of, so close to what he couldn’t say out loud, so close to what harry’s worked so hard for. so close. 

harry’s close too, louis can hear him softly breathing, can smell the detergent off his jeans, can feel his hand running up and down louis’s arm gently. 

louis sits up, shifting slightly so he can look harry in the eyes. “if we don’t make it?” 

harry frowns and louis wishes he didn’t ask in the first place. beautiful people like harry shouldn’t frown. ever. 

“we’re still gonna live together, right?” he asks, “move to london in some smelly flat together, yeah?” 

louis smiles. “course. and you’re going to cook and clean for me while i go out to bring home the bacon.” 

harry giggles and louis can’t believe he’s lived eighteen years without harry styles in his life. he’s not sure he could live another eighteen without him now that he knows what he’s missing. 

“can i wear a french maid costume?” 

louis laughs and harry looks at him like louis is christmas come early. “i’m not sure you would be able to fill it out, haz.” louis teases, pinching harry’s side. 

harry pouts, lips full and red and sometimes louis finds them distracting. maybe all the time. 

“what if we start to miss home?” louis asks, staring mostly at harry’s mouth. 

“it’ll be our new home,” harry says plainly, and louis tries to hide the grin that’s spreading. he likes the way harry says “our”. he likes the way harry says everything if he’s being honest. 

“we can get a cat if you want,” louis offers. he can already see it now. him and harry in some shit flat, going to tesco’s together, watching movies. playing gigs together at bars, sitting criss cross on a bed together, a bottle of wine in between their knees. 

“really?” harry asks, his eyes lighting up and louis thinks it’s unfair how pretty harry is. 

“mhmm,” louis hums. “i’ll even let you name it, long as it isn’t something daft.” 

harry’s close, so close and all louis can see are dimples and the color green and eyelashes fluttering against milky white skin. there’s still marshmallow dust by the corner of his mouth and there’s a beating in louis’s chest and he doesn’t know what to call this feeling but he likes it. he likes it alot. 

it’s quiet, the telly’s on mute and the only things louis can hear are the distant voices of the others upstairs and harry’s quiet breathing. their knees are touching and louis’s hands are clammy. harry’s staring at him with green eyes and mussed up curls, cheeks pink and he keeps switching his gaze from louis to his hands.

“i like you.” harry says finally meeting eyes with louis. he states it simply, like he’s telling louis the time of day. 

“the feeling’s mutual,” louis says in a tight voice. he feels like his adam’s apple is too big for his throat and his heart is pounding so fast louis’s afraid it’ll burst out of his chest. 

louis agreed with harry when he said that he didn’t want anything more than to win, but as he’s leaning closer and louis’s closes his eyes, louis thinks that maybe he wants this just a little bit more. 

harry’s lips meet his gently, tentatively. they’re soft, and god, how many times has louis thought of how they’d feel? he tastes like sugar and chalk and smells like grass and fabric softener and, damn. he’s good at this. 

harry presses his lips against louis’s once, twice, three more times and when he finally pulls away louis is dizzy and happy and there’s a warm feeling in his stomach that spreads all the way down to his toes. 

harry’s grinning, cheeks flushed and dimples showing and louis thinks this might be the best day of his life. “so london, yeah?”

louis smiles back, and a little voice says that this feeling might be love. “or paris, or spain. always wanted to visit new york, go to times square.” 

harry wraps his arms around louis’s waist and snuggles into the older boy’s arms, laying his head in the crook of louis’s neck. when he speaks, louis can feel his warm breath and yeah, maybe he wants this a lot more than any record deal. 

“‘m not picky,” harry mumbles. “long as i’m with you.” 

louis laughs loudly, and harry makes a distressed noise at the sudden jostling. “hazza, that was the cheesiest thing i’ve ever heard.” 

louis feels harry grin and can feel his heartbeat, right next to his. “get use to it tomlinson,” harry says, pressing feather light kisses on louis’s neck. “i’m not going anywhere.” 

louis places one on the top of harry’s head, curls tickling his nose and thinks he won’t mind getting use to it.

**Author's Note:**

> yooooo. follow me at not-poetic.tumblr.com and i'll love you forever (and follow you back)! leave a comment or a kudo because it makes me smile and think good thoughts for all of you!!


End file.
